


The Ride

by Slantedlight (BySlantedlight)



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 01:57:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6834391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BySlantedlight/pseuds/Slantedlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doyle is thinking again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ride

_post Wild Justice_

The dark rushed past him, wrapped him, swallowed him whole. The roar of the bike under him was loud. There was no sight, no sound but the dark. 

_“You wreck my bike, I'll burn your rubber duck”._  
“Aren't we going to stay and watch him? Cheer him on?”  
“You want to watch these clowns? Not me.”  
“Is it really dangerous, what they're going to do?”  
“Depends who's riding the bikes.”  
“Is it dangerous?” 

‘Course it was dangerous. Everything was dangerous. Dangerous to go so fast, to push so hard. To rush screaming into the night. Why’d they done it? Too fast, too fast, too fast. The tyres were gonna slide right out from under them, road merciless. Nothing he could do to keep them straight now. 

_Hot flesh on hot flesh. Anger become desperation._  
“Why’d you do it, mate?” Holding him to the wall, forearm across his throat.  
Eyes steady into his. Deep. Blue.  
“Christ, Bodie, why wouldn’t you talk to me?”  
Gentle hands raising his arms above them both until he collapsed, leaning on him then, length to length.  
Lips to lips.  
No coming back from this. 

The world was a blur around him. There were stars overhead. No lights here. Just the beam from his own headlamp, wavering through the night air. Blunted in the occasional patch of vapour.

_“Where's Bodie?”_  
“Who cares?”  
“You were meant to keep an eye on him.”  
“Yeah, that was before I found out what he was up to. My eyes got tired.” 

Not a very strong light. Not steady. He crossed the hard shoulder once or twice, rumble strip reverberating beneath him. Important to stay awake. Keep his eyes open. 

_“Ah, a little help from my friends, eh?”_  
“Oh, no, no, no. Any trouble you get into, mate, you're on your own.”  
Hadn’t known there’d be trouble. Not real trouble. Wouldn’t have left him if he’d known. Promise, sunshine, wouldn’t have left you. 

White lines flashing underneath him. Not separate at this speed, blurred together, impossible that one ended and the next began.

 _He’d left him on his own. No use demanding to know what was wrong afterwards. Should have faced him down before that. Why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t he known? Not been the same since he met_ her. _But he survived losing_ her. _Now it was different._ What if it happened again? _He couldn’t stand it to happen again. He couldn’t stand it if Bodie walked away from him._

Orange neon pouring down suddenly. A break in the central reservation. A forbidden turn. Gunned the engine back up and screamed down the motorway. 

_Right. Don’t slow down then. Everything shakes when you slow down. Separates. Let the road blur and the lights blaze, and the stars become streaks. Go._

The dark rushed past him, wrapped him, swallowed him whole.

 

_2006_

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the chicken and egg challenge at the_Safehouse on livejournal, way back in October 2005 (one of my first ever fics!) - my prompts were Doyle and a motorbike. Not posted until 2006, for various reasons.


End file.
